Finding the Right Position
by arcadian88
Summary: Draco's quidditch tryouts.


Draco hated Quidditch. He hated being sweaty, he hated being chased by bludgers and he was not a team player. It was halfway through their weekly quidditch practice. It was a Saturday and Flint had drawn the short straw in the quidditch captains meeting and Slytherin had ended up with the evening slot for practice. It was growing dark and the team was struggling through a new play that Flint had concocted for their upcoming match against Ravenclaw. As Draco took another lap around the pitch gritting his teeth against the biting wind he felt a twinge of resentment towards his father.

"He's the reason I'm on this bloody flying death trap in the first place." Draco thought as he swerved a Bludger and glared in the direction it had come.

Goyle waved and smiled. Rolling his eyes Draco sped off and came to a gliding stop on the outskirts of the pitch that had become his usual hiding place during practice. As he watched the Chaser's attempt a goal, Draco thought back to his first quidditch practice.

When Draco came home for the summer of his first year ranting about Harry Potter being chosen as the new Gryffindor seeker Lucius Malfoy went out and bought the new brooms that very day. He made Draco practice all summer. Although the attempts to bulk up and add some muscularity to his form were valiant, Draco remained thin and slight. The first quidditch practice with the Slytherins was horrible. He thought that the only improvement to the Slytherin team were the new brooms. Upon his father's insistence, via a Howler to Flint, Draco was to tryout in all the positions as to ensure that he was placed in the one that best fit his skill set. "It's all about finding the right position." his father said repeatedly over the summer. The Chaser tryout was first up. It went awry immediately as Draco attempted a pass and missed, the quaffle sailed way over the Adrian Pucey's head.

"My father will hear about your mediocrity!" Draco screeched as the Chaser flew down to retrieve the quaffle.

From that point onwards it was clear that Draco had trust issues as he refused to give the quaffle to anyone else. It turned out that Draco was actually alright at passing, when aiming directly to the Keeper, Miles Bletchley, who laughed so hard he dropped the quaffle. He went on to make zero saves in Keeper tryouts and threatened Marcus Flint with death at the hands of his father as the quaffle bounced off the tail of his broom and fell through the nearby hoop. Beater tryouts were also a disaster and Draco ended up swinging the bat so violently it flew out of his grip and gave Bletchley a minor concussion. At long last it was time for the Seeker tryout.

Draco circled the pitch searching for the snitch but soon became distracted by the other players and settled a few tail-lengths above watching the scrimmage. He watched as a Pucey threw the quaffle to Flint who was ahead, the quaffle was intercepted by a Bludger that had been redirected by a Beater's wild club swinging.

"Your flying sucks more than a one-winged Hippogriff!" Draco bellowed from on high.

Unlucky for him the Pucey was a burly sixth year who shot towards him like a bullet. Draco turned his broom and fled. He raced around the pitch all the while hearing the Pucey shouting obscenities like a madman. Out of the corner of his eye Draco saw a glint of golden wings. Indeed it was the snitch, hovering close to the edge of the stadium. He swerved and headed after the tiny gold ball. As his fingers closed around it Draco looked back to see how close the Pucey was and had to come to a sudden halt to avoid colliding with the rail of the stands.

Pucey caught up and dragged Draco off his broom by the arm and started heading towards the goalpost. Draco howled, flailing about in panic. He could hear Flint's whistle screaming in the wind. He felt Pucey swing him backwards as the goalpost drew near. In the last second he felt another body slam into his and rip his arm from the Pucey's grasp. Draco felt searing pain in his shoulder as the ligaments tore, he fainted.

Draco woke up in the hospital wing with his shoulder wrapped. He turned his head and saw Flint talking with Madam Pomfrey. Noticing he was awake Flint walked over and stopped by his bedside looking down and smirked.

"Congratulations, since technically you did catch the snitch you are our new Seeker."

Flint began to walk away and then called over his shoulder.

"Oh and try not to piss off Pucey again, he really wanted to score with you."

The whistle blew and pulled Draco out of his memory. Hopefully this is the last bloody time I have to hear that blasted whistle thought Draco as he headed for the ground. He landed next to Blaise who offered a hand to Malfoy.

"Here, I caught the snitch." he said as he rolled the tiny gold ball into Draco's palm.

This was a routine they had fallen into as Draco's performance had taken a dramatic decline since the beginning of the term, he had far more pressing matters to attend to and frankly he was growing tired of quidditch. Due to the fact that Crabbe and Goyle were useless in subtly, Blaise would catch the snitch during practice and hand it to Malfoy so he could show Flint that he still adequate at doing his job as Seeker.

"Dude, you like circled the pitch, three times. It was like watching a broken propeller." commented Blaise with a smirk.

"Shut up Blaise." snapped Draco.

He turned his attention back to where Marcus Flint who was going off on Crabbe pointing on the animated piece of parchment that showed animated versions of the players and how they were supposed to move. Draco watched as Crabbe walked up, grabbed the parchment and tore it in half. Flint drew his wand and hit Crabbe with a jinx that caused toads to jump out of his mouth. As Crabbe fell to the ground retching Draco was reminded of the time they had kicked the Gryffindor team off the pitch and sent Potter and Granger packing with Weasley upchucking slugs. Draco cracked a smile at the fond memory. Quidditch practice was over.


End file.
